The mountains gathered round me like bandits. Their leader swaggered up close in the dark light, full of threats, full of thunders. But it was they who stood and delivered. They gave me their money and their lives. They filled me with mountains and thunders. My li

Give Simon Armitage Of all the public places, dear to make a scene, Iâve chosen here. Of all the doorways in the world to choose to sleep, Iâve chosen yours. Iâm on the street, under the stars. For coppers I can dance or sing. For silver-swallow swords, eat fire. For gold-escape from

Are you writing something a little bit disturbing? Do youÂ wantÂ to improve your descriptive writing or to think about setting andÂ atmosphere? Thriller writers like John Connolly and James Lee Burke are superb craftsmen and mayÂ inspireÂ your own writing through their predilection for the

What colour is sadness? What colour is passion? What colour is joy? Patrick Ness and David Almond both use a form of graphic novel to explore the Â profound sadness of grief in their Â books Â A Monster Calls and The Savage. Â In both, the visual aspects of the narrative seems as powerful

The kind old face, the egg-shaped head, The tie, discreetly loud, The loosely fitting shooting clothes, A closely fitting shroud. He liked old city dining rooms, Potatoes in their skin, But now his mouth is wide to let The London clay come in. He took me on long silent walks In countr